Perfect, Plastic, Prison
by ArtemisRoseShadow
Summary: It was a plastic paradise built on trash and nuclear waste. A beautiful, warm, false world that 2D couldn't touch. He didn't want to be there, but it was exactly what he always wanted. It made 2D want to sob. And for a long time, that was all he did.
1. Reunions

Disclaimer: I do not own Gorillaz. I'm not making any money from this. It's just for fun.

Notes: This is really short, it's just an idea that came into my head. Eventually Murdoc/2D. The plot is a bit off, but I tried to make it as accurate as possible while still bending it for my evil purposes. Enjoy!

* * *

"Heya, 2D. You wanna make a new album?"

That was the first thing Murdoc said to him when he finally woke up. The singer groaned and sat up, cracking open his eyes and looking around. He heard a familiar voice, and turned to look. The satanist was leaning in the doorway of the dark room, arms crossed and looking as smug as ever. 2D's face lit up and he grinned, launching himself off of the bed he seemed to be on and stumbling over to his friend, hugging him. Murdoc held him close with a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around the singer's lower back.

"Muds! Oh, it's so good ta see you!" 2D cried. He apparently didn't hear what Murdoc had said. "What's going on? Where are we? Didja get gassed too? I fink that's wot happened ta me, I remember seein' some cloudy stuff near me feet... Who brought us here? Is anyone else here? Where is here?"

"I brought ya here, dullard." the bassist said quietly. The other froze in his arms.

"W-Wot?" he asked, as if he heard wrong. "You? Why?"

"... I want to make a new album." Murdoc replied. 2D wriggled out of the satanist's arms and took a step back. Murdoc scowled. "An' I need ya. Ya know I can't sing fer shit."

The blue-haired man's expression slowly fell to anger. "Murdoc!" he growled, and the other was a bit shocked at how angry he was. "Last time ya called I told ya I didn't want to! I've got other things ta do, I've moved on from the music scene. Ya can't just gas and kidnap me just ta make yer stupid songs!"

"Oh shove it, I heard wot you've been doing. Modeling? 2D, yer pretty, but it's just not you. Ya know where you belong, and it's in music. On the mic, playing the keys. And right next to me." he said. 2D took another step back and gave him an incredulous look. "...And you're _going _to make this new album with me. I've already got sum songs, notes and lyrics here and there... Some pretty good stuff, but I need ya to finish 'em up wif me." His tone had become a little pleading as he finished speaking, and it was out-of-character for him. 2D frowned.

"Muds, NO. I've got stuff goin' on back home! I just got a job for a magazine in London, I'm doing well! I can't spend time on sumfink like this now!" he shouted.

Suddenly, Murdoc's face darkened. He started walking towards him, clenching his fists. 2D wasn't prepared for the punch that send him rocketing backwards. He hit the wall rather violently and slid down with a groan. The singer looked up as his friend moved forward, looming over him. Blood began to run from 2D's nose, and he lifted a hand to cover it, but it was dripping to and down his hands. "Wot the Hell, man?" he said, staring up at the other, a bit dazed.

Murdoc growled. "You are _going _to make this album with me, 2D. Ya don't have a choice in the matter. I was gunna be nice 'bout it, but I guess that plan went down the drain." he hissed. The bassist turned on his heel and headed towards the door.

"Wait, Murdoc!" 2D shouted after him, voice a little muffled by his hand, lifting his other hand but not getting up. "Where are we? Wot is this place?"

The bassist turned around. "I call it Plastic Beach!" he said proudly, mood switching once again. "It's the farthest point from any civilization in the world. It's on a buncha trash and plastic floatin' in the ocean. I had it painted and decorated, and created my own personal paradise! I got a recording studio and study upstairs. Power room and lighthouse, too."

2D opened his mouth to shout at him some more, but he was interrupted.

"- And this is yer room. I got a buncha yer stuff from Kong that ya left. Telly and DVD player work, bathroom next ta yer closet." he said, gesturing to two doors behind some boxes with his hand. 2D glanced around, finally taking in his surroundings. There was a large grey machine against the opposite wall that was humming, with many wires coming from it. Murdoc caught his eye and laughed. "Don't worry 'bout that. It's nothin'. I got you sum mega-plug or something as well, cuz I know how much ya love yer technology."

He paused at the bassist's words. Murdoc had really tried to make him comfortable... The notion was sweet, but 2D didn't feel it was good enough retribution for the gassing-and-kidnapping thing. And 2D first woke up outside, he knew that, the sun was so bright... then everything had gone black, so Murdoc must've hit him over the head or knocked him out AGAIN...

"Is... is Noodle here?" he murmured quietly, removing his hand from his nose, which was now covered in blood.

Murdoc tensed, and glanced away. "Uhm... no. Not really."

"Not really?"

"Not really." he repeated firmly, demanding the end of the subject. "Neither is Russ, not yet. I know wot yer getting at. No one else is here. Yer stuck."

2D made a dismayed sound and braced his hands against the wall, shakily standing up. He started to walk towards Murdoc -more importantly, the door-, but in the blink of an eye, the satanist ran forward, shoving him back against the wall with a dull thud before he had gotten even three feet away. The singer made a pitiful sound and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. "Y-You... you can't do this, Muds! The police'll come, someone'll save me, I'll escape!"

Murdoc cackled. "You don't think I've got security? Protection? I've been bein' chased by pirates recently, that's WHY I'm out here! Yer not going _anywhere_, 'D." he said. The bassist turned again to head to the door, and this time 2D didn't try to run for it. He stayed where he was, a shocked, almost horrified look on his face.

When he was at the threshold, he looked over his shoulder at 2D. "I have some things I need to attend to. You not cooperating has changed a few things. I'll be back down eventually to see if you changed yer mind."

"Y-You're gonna leave me in here?"

"Yup." the bassist said simply, grinning like the Devil. "And it would be best if ya didn't try to leggit. I've got an eye on you."

With that, he walked out and shut the door. 2D heard a series of clicks, some beeps, and the sound of something large, metal, and rusty being turned or moved. He sighed and looked at his bloody hand, and lifted to see if his nose was still bleeding. It was, and he glanced around, but found nothing that would help his predicament.

Stumbling back over to the bed, he thought about everything that had just happened. "Wonder how long I'll be 'ere..." the singer thought out loud. He looked to the side, at the shelf that lined the wall next to his bed. There was a cup, a few blank pieces of paper, some pencils, a DVD player, and a bong. He grimaced. Despite being a complete tosser, Murdoc knew him too well. He spotted the window above him, but blue curtains were covering the view. 2D sat up on his knees to grab the fabric and part it. He gasped when he was greeted with a circular window, revealing a deep, endless blue ocean. He saw a few fish swim by.

"Holy _SHIT_." 2D said as he watched through the glass.

Murdoc had him _underwater_.


	2. In My Head

Notes: Chapter two! I won't be updating as frequently as I just did, it's because I was sick today. Enjoy! XD

* * *

2D was shaking. He couldn't even move besides his involuntary twitching. He was _underwater_. Completely submerged in an aquatic prison. What if the window cracked? Or if he got Vertigo? What if he ran out of air? Granted, the view was quite pretty, he had only seen a few colourful fish and a squid so far, but that didn't make it better. Murdoc had been gone for at least 3 hours, 2D thought, and in that time he hadn't relaxed a bit.

He was panicking now, and starting to feel a pressure behind his eyes. The singer pinched the bridge of his nose. He was forming a headache from stressing so much, and needed to calm himself down or he would get sick. Unsteady hands felt around in his pockets for one of his pill bottles, but his pockets were completely void of anything he had in them at the time he was gassed. Murdoc had taken everything. His pills, his switchknife, two condoms, and his wallet. 2D swore loudly. The fucker probably took his credit cards and the 240 pounds he had in there, too. He was planning on buying a nice vaporizer, but not anymore. Murdoc had probably already spent it on booze or hard drugs.

Thinking wasn't helping his head any, and 2D began to feel a little queasy. He needed his meds. Looking around the room, he tried to spot a likely place where they would be. Murdoc knew him well enough to set up a decent, interesting room... surely he didn't forget that 2D was a sobbing pile of migraines without his pills?

The thought of being without his meds for too long was unbearable. His hollow eyes roamed over the bedside table and shelf, but the pills weren't there. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, looking at the rest of the room. The walls were an odd orange-pink, and now that he wasn't extremely distracted, he noticed the large pipes going through the ceiling, and the few columns in the room, not completely straight. There was a large fan propped against the wall at the edge of his bed, his banjo on the floor, as well as a small record player which 2D recognized from Kong. The whole room was messy, papers that seemed to be blueprints littered the floor, and wires went in every which way, coming from mostly the walls and the large grey machine. 2D wasn't really sure he wanted to know what it was.

His eyes suddenly came over a beaten pile of boxes behind said machine, poorly wrapped and looking as if they went through alot of trouble. 2D quickly got up and scrambled over to them, kneeling down and taking the first brown box and ripping it open.

Clothes.

They were his old clothes.

He began to rifle through the contents of the box. It had at least 5 of his old favourite shirts, 2 pairs of jeans (not his skinny ones, Murdoc said they made him look like a fag), and one of his favourite jackets. 2D pushed that box aside and moved to another.

More clothes. His T-Virus shirt, his Hello Kinky shirt, and his Tazar Yoot shirt. 2D found his brown leather gloves folded inside the pocket of a pair of black pants, too. But no skinny jeans, and still no medication. The singer moved to the next box and opened it. He didn't know whether to be happy or disturbed that Murdoc had kept what looked like ALL of his old clothes (undergarments included), even ones that 2D had thought he had lost a long time ago. How did Murdoc find them?

2D's head was throbbing now, warning him by blurring his vision. He stopped thinking about the clothes, pushing the why into the back of his mind so he could focus on finding his pills. But unfortunately, after going through every single one of the 15-or-so containers, he found nothing but clothes.

"Fuckin' prick!" he shouted, standing onto shaky feet. He swayed dangerously when black kept into his sight, but it went away after a few moments. 2D turned to the two doors next to eachother on the right. He headed for the closet. Nothing.

Well, not nothing. But not what he was looking for. There were stacks of his old journals and notebooks on the floor of the closet, the ones he wrote songs or poems in, or doodled in. 2D frowned. He had these at his apartment back home... Murdoc must've told them to take some of his things, too. The idea didn't sit right with him and he slammed the door a bit too loudly. He groaned as the sound made his ears ring.

2D suddenly felt very, very stupid. Not because of slamming the door. Because of the door next to it. The bathroom. He tried to open the door, but his hand slipped the first time. It took two tries to get his shaking hands to open the door and run in, looking for the cupboard or mirror-shelf.

It was a simple bathroom, tiled in the same colour as 2D's room, with a rather large white tub to the side. The stone didn't match that of the sink, which was grey. A square, protruding mirror was above it, with an even crack down the middle. 2D reached and slid the sides open.

There wasn't a thing in there, not even aspirin, or a razor, or fucking _dust_.

Great.

2D closed the mirror and looked into it, groaning at what he saw. He looked like shit. He had blood from his nose down to his chin, and his nose was swollen and bruised. He touched it and winced. Painful, but it wasn't broken, luckily. Reaching for a nearby handtowel, he got it wet and began trying to wash the blood off his face.

It was a useless endeavor, though, his hands were too shaky, and his vision was still playing tricks on him. The singer made his way out of the bathroom, and glanced to the door. He knew it was locked, but it couldn't hurt to try. With a deep breath he walked to it and put his hands on the doorknob. He tried to turn it, but it wouldn't budge. He tried again, but nothing. On the third try, he heard what sounded like three beeps on the other side of the door. 2D suddenly felt like he did something wrong and backed away from the door. Another three beeps, muffled, but audible. The blue-haired man cringed and shook his head, taking another step back and turning to run back to the bed. He scooted up to the pillow and brought his legs to his chest, staring at the offending door with wide eyes.

He didn't hear anymore beeps, but 2D wasn't comforted. With good reason, because about 3 minutes later, 2D heard dull footsteps rapidly approaching the door. He heard the locks being undone, a short, electric whirring, and the loud, scraping sound of metal against rust, right before the door was thrown open. 2D jumped at the loud bang and groaned, holding his head.

Murdoc stormed into the room, looking sour. He shut the door behind him, again very loudly. 2D whined and shut his eyes. "Murdoc, I need me meds." he muttered.

The bassist scoffed.

"I'm serious." 2D said, trying to keep his voice from quivering. He was still shaking, and Murdoc noticed it. "I've got a migraine. You know wot mine're like. I... I really need 'em."

"Have you changed yer mind, then?"

2D looked at him in shock. "Wot? N-No, of course not! I won't ever want to do yer stupid album, and I won't!" he hissed, keeping his voice low. "I just need me meds. I fink the goddamn _water pressure_ is gettin' to me."

The other laughed again, and 2D whined and cupped his hands closer over his ears. "Do you like the view?" Murdoc teased. "I wanted to give ya something to look at, without the risk of you trying to climb out the window, or jump for it."

He frowned, but ignored the other's words. "Muds, please. I need 'em. I-I can't even see straight anymore..." he trailed off. Murdoc rolled his mismatched eyes.

"Relax, faceache. I have 'em right here." he said, taking two pill bottles from his pocket and holding them in the air. 2D looked over and his expression brightened, about to get up, but Murdoc lifted a finger. "Ah-ah-ah, not so fast. I have a request from you first."

2D deadpanned. Was the satanist actually serious? He expected 2D to do him a favour in the current situation, just for medication that practically kept him sane? He opened his mouth to object, but Murdoc continued.

"- I want you to read summa'the song and bits I have. No singing or recording right now. I jus' want ya to read." he said, and finally his voice was soft enough for 2D to deal with. He took his thin hands off of his ears and blinked at him dumbly. It wasn't any kind of request that 2D expected from him, and he frowned at his inability to predict his old mate's actions anymore. He wasn't happy with it, and knew Murdoc would push him to record the things later on if he didn't escape, but 2D considered it. Reading a few sheets of paper, in exchange for his pills, which he had at least a weeks' worth of the two prescriptions, the ones he needed the most?

He paused before speaking.

"A... Awright, Muds. I guess that's okay."

The satanist grinned and tossed the two pill bottles onto the bed next to 2D, who immediately shot for them. He couldn't get the top off of the first one, and he whimpered under his breath when the cap wouldn't turn, becoming frantic again. His vision darkened for a moment as a sharp pain exploded behind his eyes, but the shock went away to another dull throb quickly. But by the time he had regained focus and vision, Murdoc was sitting on the bed next to him, holding the pill bottle out to him, cap off and in his palm. He seemed to be enjoying 2D's predicament.

2D frowned, but thanked him anyways, grabbing the bottle and shaking three green-and-white capsules into his hand. He swallowed them dry, handing the container back to Murdoc, who handed him the other one, opened as well. 2D took four of these, little red tablets with a number and letter on each one. Murdoc couldn't make out what it was, but didn't really care. As long as 2D didn't overdose.

It wasn't a plausible thought in Murdoc's mind. 2D had been on medication his whole life, he knew his limits, and the little idiot loved life too much to off himself, even if he was trapped against his will the the middle of nowhere on a godforsaken island of rubbish. The bassist didn't doubt that he would find a way to enjoy himself somehow.

The singer sighed, letting Murdoc take the bottle from him and close both of them. He put them next to the DVD player on the shelf. "Yew a'right, dullard?" he asked, being nice and keeping his voice to a whisper.

2D looked at him with suspicion, but nodded slowly. "I... I fink I will be fer now, yeah." he said, trying to make his hands stop fidgeting. He sank back against the pillow. "Uhm... Er... fanks. I guess. Fer, uh... yeah. Me meds'n stuff."

"Don't thank me." he replied. Murdoc sensed how awkward 2D felt, how angry, and probably a little betrayed, and knew it didn't mix well with his headache. Hopefully it would go away in a little bit. There was an odd pause between the two, and the bassist looked over the room. "I see you got into the boxes. Looking for yer meds, I assume?"

2D glanced over to the corner where the boxes where, strewn about and turned over, their contents thrown around everywhere. He looked away quickly. "Y-Yeah." the blue-haired man said shortly. He desperately wanted to ask what possessed Murdoc to keep his entire wardrobe, but felt that it would be too awkward, and he wasn't really looking forward to whatever the answer was. "Fanks for givin' me my clothes back." 2D said instead, with a forced laugh. "Thought I'd lost half that stuff."

Murdoc tensed. He stood up suddenly.

"I have to go. I'll bring down those songs sometime t'night. You better read 'em, too, cuz I'll know if ya don't." the satanist said. He headed towards the door, and 2D reached after him, but pulled back.

"Murdoc, 'fore ya go, can I ask a question?"

The other cringed. "Sure. Yew can ask. I might not answer." he replied smoothly, keeping his back to 2D. He didn't want 2D to see his anxiety. It was a few moments before 2D spoke.

"What day is it?" he asked in a small tone. He usually didn't care what day it was, never knew what time it was, but now that he had no way of knowing, it was driving him crazy. Murdoc laughed, a bit coldly, and moved to the door.

"I can't tell ya that, 2D." he said.

"Wot? Why not?" 2D asked, sitting up. Murdoc didn't respond and opened the door, muttering a sarcastic goodbye and shutting it behind him. The locks began to click. "Murdoc, please!" he shouted after him, getting up and running to the door. He banged on it with clenched fists, trying the doorknob, yelling through the wood. "Why not? WHY NOT?"

He heard a faint laugh as the supposed-wheel turned on the other side, but he didn't let up his shouting, even as the footsteps started and began to fade. Only until he couldn't hear anything but his on voice did he stop, sliding down to his knees and resting his forehead on the door. His throat felt heavy, and a sob threatened to wrack his body, but 2D held it back. The comforting numbness of his medication was starting to take effect, with perfect timing. He took a deep breath and held back from crying, focusing on the warm dizziness that was creeping up on him, so much different from the painful unsteadiness that his migraine had caused.

2D had taken two more red pills then he usually did, and three more then the prescribed dose. They were quick-release tablets, which 2D had never been more thankful for as he turned around to sit up against the door. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling extremely tired. Dealing with Murdoc had always worn him out, along with migraines. The singer felt too lazy to go back to the bed, and shifted a bit, deciding that he was comfortable enough for now. He wasn't planning on sleeping very long, hee just needed to get rid of the remnants of his headache... Besides, maybe here, next time Murdoc opened the door, he could make a run for it and catch Murdoc off-guard.

It was unlikely, but just maybe.


	3. Disorders of All

2D's plan of trying to run when Murdoc opened the door had failed miserably.

He had woken up on the bed with the covers tossed over him. There was another brief moment of panic when he woke up in a place he didn't know, but 2D quickly remembered and sighed. Murdoc must've come in without waking 2D up and moved him. He cursed under his breath.

A chuckle came from the left side of the room and the singer let out a surprised shout and whipped his head to face the voice. Murdoc was leaning against one of the pillars, smug and cruel-looking as ever, watching him with mild interest. "Scared you?" he teased. 2D caught his breath and scowled at him.

"Don't DO that!" he hissed.

Murdoc raised a brow. "I didn't do anything." he said. In his left hand were a few ragged-looking sheets of paper, covered in scribbled words and music notes and smudges of ink. The bassist saw 2D eye the papers and nodded, walking over to him and giving him the papers. He took them from him and looked them over. There seemed to be a few tear stains, too. 2D wondered if they were Murdoc's.

"These the songs?" he asked, but knew they were. Just something to say, really.

"O' course, idiot. Well, some of them. I've got a lot more, but let's start off small, yeah? Not all of 'em are full yet, and some don't got tunes, but it's some catchy stuff." the man said, running a hand through his shaggy hair.

"... I'm still not singin', Murdoc." 2D said quietly, staring at the papers. Parts of the words were scribbled quickly, as if in a hurry, while some were well-thought and even. Every once in awhile, the handwriting would shift a bit, but still have the same basic structure, just different... personalities? Maybe that was it. The vocalist frowned at the paper and shook the thoughts away.

The satanist was watching him closely. His expression was angry now, and he loomed over 2D like a hawk. "You will, though." he replied. "I don't care what I've got to do. We're making this album." His tone was threatening and dark.

2D huffed and put the papers on the bedside shelf, next to the bong. It wasn't his old one that he left at Kong, he noted, but one of smaller, light-blue glass. He almost appreciated all the things on the room earlier, but now it was just making him mad. "Get sum'one else to do it. Ya can't make me."

He was shocked when Murdoc reached down and grabbed his chin in a painful grip, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I can, and hope that I don't have to." he growled, glaring at him. The younger man let out a surprised noise and was about to shout at him, but Murdoc's expression changed once again, a little compassionate. "You... still have blood on yer face."

There was a pause, and Murdoc let his hand fall from 2D's chin.

"Yeah, I-I tried ta wash it off, but I was a little, uhm, withdrawn." he muttered.

Murdoc let out an annoyed sigh and took hold of the keyboardist's wrist and tugged him off of the bed. 2D stumbled as his old friend dragged him across the room and into the bathroom. He flicked the switch of the light and shoved 2D to sit on the toilet lid once they were both in. It seemed to happen in a flash to 2D, and he blinked dumbly and looked around.

"Let's get you cleaned up." Murdoc murmured. He grabbed a hand towel from the small rack on the wall and turned on the hot top and held it under for a bit. He turned it off and rubbed some soap on it before moving back to 2D. He crouched before him, pressing the cloth to 2D's nose and lips with a startling gentleness. He winced when it stung his nose a little, but it wasn't very bad. He tried to control his fidgeting, a bit taken aback at the act of kindness for an injury Murdoc himself caused. The bassist cleaned his face slowly in light strokes of the soapy cloth, not speaking a word, and when he was done, he took the dry end of the towel and got the remaining water and blood off. He stood back up and put the towel on the edge of the sink.

2D was the first to speak.

"F-Fanks." he whispered, touching two fingers to his nose lightly. It was hurting less then before, and he was glad that he wasn't covered in blood anymore.

"Stop thanking me." he snapped back. "It's fuckin' annoying."

Murdoc had begun to walk back out to the main room, and 2D followed quickly. He didn't know what to say anymore, his mate was harder to read then he remembered. He was being an excellent host for such a twisted captor.

"Sorry." the singer muttered, feet making their own way back to 'his' bed, sitting on the edge. He heard the older man make a displeased noise.

"And don't apologize either, idiot."

2D pouted. Then what was he supposed to say? Murdoc got angry at everything that came out of his mouth, but the silence between them killed him every time. Despite current situations, he didn't know whether to treat Murdoc as an old friend, his kidnapper, or some odd mixture of both. It seemed Murdoc didn't know how to treat him in the situation, either.

They were both quiet for a moment, and Murdoc spoke again.

"Are you, uh, hungry or anything?"

Definitely not what 2D was expecting.

But now that he mentioned it, the singer's stomach made a rumbling noise that even Murdoc could hear. He laughed, and 2D flushed in embarassment. "I'll take that as a yes?" he asked, grinning. Guess he wasn't in a bad mood anymore. "Want me to get you, like, a sandwich or sumthing?"

He thought for a moment. "I... I dunno. You got, like, fruit or sumfink? An orange or apple?"

"Yeah, of course. Want a drink, too? Don't want you dying down here." he laughed. 2D didn't find it funny and glowered, but nodded anyways. "What do yew want? Soda, water, juice, booze, tea, coffee?"

"Err... jus' some soda, I guess."

The other nodded and started to head for the door. He was slow, careful, keeping his eye on 2D over his shoulder as he did so. "I'll be back in a sec, luv. Keeping the door locked. Don't fret." the satanist teased. The door creaked when he wrenched it open and slipped through, shutting it behind him and starting the series of locks on the other side. It was all done very quickly, and the singer frowned at how cautious Murdoc was.

While he was gone, 2D spent the few minutes pondering over how much it must've cost to built a building partly underwater, and trying to ignore that Murdoc had called him 'luv'. His words and actions had been frustratingly contrasting throughout the whole ordeal so far, and it made the younger man's head hurt to think about.

It was 10 minutes at most before the man heard the locks and gears begin to turn again, and he looked up to the door as it opened. Murdoc stepped in and kicked the door closed behind him. He had a can of Diet Pepsi in one hand, and an orange in the other. He tossed them to 2D as he walked back over and leaned against the pillar near 2D's bed again.

Murdoc watched him like a hawk as he began to peel the orange. He tossed the rinds in the cup on the shelf as he did so. There was an extremely uncomfortable silence between the two as 2D started to eat. He knew what the bassist was probably thinking, and looked up at him. "Ya don't need to worry, Muds. I'm eating now 'n everyfing. I got over that."

The satanist scoffed curtly. "I'm just making sure." he muttered, and it seemed as though he was trying to mask his worry. He still observed him closely at every slice he chewed and swallowed, and the entire affair was very awkward for 2D. When he finished the orange, he popped open the soda and took a sip. He was about to whisper another thanks, but remembered what Murdoc had said last time and thought better of it.

After a few moments, he looked to Murdoc again. "Can I ask ya another question?" he said softly, a bit afraid that Murdoc would lash out. The man just made a disgruntled noise and shrugged. 2D took this as a yes. "Wot time is it?"

Murdoc shook his head and sighed, pushing off of the column as the keyboard player put his drink down. 2D knew that he was getting ready to leave. He had that exasperated look in his eye. "Late." he said finally. The singer pouted.

"That's not an answer!"

The bassist glared daggers at him. "Well, it's the best yer gettin'!" he snapped back. "It would be smart of ya to learn not to question me."

2D was glad when Murdoc headed for the door, getting fed up with his presence, his half-answers, and his contradicting actions. "Sum'one's gonna realize I'm gone." the singer whispered. Murdoc just let out a hollow laugh.

"Good fer them. They won't be able to do shit. And if anyone does, I'll kill 'em in their tracks."

The door was opened and he left without another word, slamming the heavy wood behind him. 2D was thankful. He felt like crying, but couldn't bring himself to in front of Murdoc. The sounds of the locks seemed to make sink 2D's heart lower in his chest, and he let out a distressed noise. He choked on his breath when his eyes welled up, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

He began to sob into his hands.


	4. Awkward Encounters

The songs weren't half-bad. 2D almost cried when he read the the patch of lyrics under the title 'Melancholy Mountain'. It reminded him of Noodle. There was a question mark after the title, as if Murdoc wasn't sure on it yet. There were scribbled-out words and question marks on a lot of lines.

All the lyrics on the papers were extremely obscure, a bit more upbeat then he expected from Murdoc, but the singer admitted that they were very catchy. Almost all of the pieces seemed like love songs to him, and he still found it very disturbing that the papers were tracked by tearstains. It made him a bit sad, actually, and he didn't know why.

He had started to believe that it was late like Murdoc said, because a sort of thick stillness had settled over the room, and it felt as if it stretched through the entire building, because 2D couldn't hear a thing, minus the small hums and whirs of machinery and fans. And the occasional faraway drip, which made him very, _very _nervous. Wanting to stay awake, to wait for Murdoc again, the thin man tried to keep himself alert, even not taking any of his pills for awhile because they made him drowsy, but 2D was afraid of getting another headache, and it didn't last long.

He read over the song bits one more time before falling asleep, and was happy that he was too numb to feel like crying over 'Melancholy Mountain', or whatever it was.

For the first time in months, he didn't have a single dream. Or at least one he could remember.

When 2D woke up, the room was a little warmer then he remembered. It was nice, though, and he didn't mind. There was another orange and a bottle of iced tea on the shelf, making him frown. He didn't like the thought of Murdoc coming and going during his sleep, even if it was to give him food. The man wasn't hungry right then, and instead just went for the tea.

As he drank it, his eyes found themselves wandering the room again. What was he supposed to do down here all day, when Murdoc wasn't in here trying to convince him to sing? There were a few things, but he couldn't possibly occupy himself all the time without going insane. The tea suddenly went bitter in his mouth and he put it down with a dark look. Some of the songs had moved him, and he had missed Murdoc, he wouldn't deny it, but these weren't the circumstances he wanted. A different time, different situations... maybe then they could have done this.

But he had crossed the line by stepping back into 2D's life. Or, more accurately, dragging 2D out of his life and into Murdoc's own. But people would wonder. There would be missed appointments, unreturned phone calls... someone would realize he was gone. Someone would care. Right?

It was hard to convince himself right then. People would notice, for a little bit, but care? Maybe not. He could easily be forgotten, stuck here until the whole thing was over with. 2D didn't know if he'd be able to handle that.

He didn't really know what to do with his time. There was nothing on the telly that interested him, and there were only three channels, that all came in fuzzy and in a language he couldn't understand. None of them were news channels, which killed his hopes of figuring out a time or date. He couldn't find any DVDs either, and was thinking of using the bong, but he realized that there wasn't anything to smoke in the room, anyways. Was Murdoc just teasing him?

The singer was now sort of hoping the satanist would come down again, if just to give him interaction, give him something to do. And maybe ask him for some DVDs and some weed. Or cigarettes, at least. 2D was fiending rather fiercely. Another pill -one of the red ones- fixed it, though. He found himself sinking back into the mattress again, staring up at the ceiling. He had closed the curtains over the window much earlier, deciding that if he didn't see the water, it didn't exist, and being very happy with that decision.

He vaguely wondered what hemisphere they were in. Maybe Murdoc would tell him that.

2D had walked the lengths of the room a fair few times, including the bathroom and closet, before the other man returned. 2D had taken a short nap in that time, as well as doodled a few fish on a sheet of paper while he was gone, and finished the orange and iced tea. He guessed it must have been almost the entire day.

He was in the bathroom when Murdoc came in, but the man had a scowl on his face. 2D made his way back to the bed, keeping his eyes on his friend. "H-Hi, Murdoc." he muttered when he sat down. The man made a disinterested sound of acknowledgment and nodded, following him to the bed and standing over him. 2D recognized the smell of alcohol on him.

"I, uh, read the songs."

"Did ya now?"

2D sighed, wishing Murdoc wouldn't be so difficult all the time. "Y-yeah. And they're good." the singer said, reaching over and grabbing the papers. He was going to hand them back to Murdoc, but the satanist didn't take them. 2D grumbled under his breath and put the papers back down. He hated this. Not knowing what to say. It made things terribly awkward, and he didn't know how to go about saying what he wanted to say.

He opted instead to ask another question.

"Hey... do'ya know wot hemisphere we're in right now?"

The answer was unexpected, to say the least. It was lightening fast, too, and 2D barely had time to blink. A hand fisted in his hair and yanked his head up sharply, pulling him a little up so he stooped awkwardly. 2D let out a surprised shout and immediately lifted his hands to hit and grab at Murdoc's wrists. The bassist stared at him, searching his eyes for something(2D didn't know what), and he didn't let go until the other started scratching him, digging his nails into his skin. "Murdoc, wot're you doing? Leggo!"

He hissed and dropped the other, who plopped back onto the mattress with a wince. 2D shrunk back and glared at his old bandmate, prepared to scratch him again if needed. The bassist just put his hands in his pockets and frowned, acting like nothing had happened. "...I'm gonna go get some'a the rest of the songs, then." he said after a pause, and 2D couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being. It made him angry, but he didn't want Murdoc to try anything again.

The blue-haired man didn't do anything as he left, but ran his hands soothingly through his hair where Murdoc grabbed it once the door had shut. He was thinking over the strange outburst, and it confused him more then scared him, but he wouldn't say it didn't do both.

Murdoc came back quicker then expected, and he heard the locks begin to click and slide. But they stopped halfway through their usual tune, as if Murdoc was rethinking. 2D froze and listened carefully. After awhile, the locks began to click again, but in reverse. Did he change his mind?

Apparently he did, because three slips of paper were pushed through the crack below the door and into the room. 2D heard the familiar footsteps disappear again and his blood boiled. He got up and ran to the door, pounding on it with closed fists. "Murdoc, ya bloody prick, get yer ass back here!" he shouted. "C'mon, ya can't do this!"

Silence once again settled over the room.

He didn't bother screaming after him again, and instead grabbed the papers and went back to the bed. He swore under his breath, a few choice curses about his older friend, and lay down on the mattress. The papers were shoved under his pillow angrily. He didn't want to look at them right now.

Why didn't Murdoc come back in?

It started to drive him crazy. Was he too drunk? Or did he already get sick of him? The singer just didn't know. Was he feeling awkward after that interaction? Thinking back on it, he guessed he did provoke him a little, with the question and everything... Wait, what was he thinking? 2D didn't provoke him at all! He shook the thought out of his head. Murdoc was being irrational, as usual. The singer didn't do anything. It took a bit to convince himself, though.

After awhile, curiousity and boredom got the best of him, and he grabbed the papers back from under the pillows and began to read. These pages were also tracked with tears, another question that 2D would probably never ask.


	5. Where It Starts

He didn't see Murdoc again for a very long time.

At least that's what 2D thought. He didn't really know. The water outside his window would get darker every once in awhile, just slightly, but for a long time, so he decided to judge his days and nights by that. After the satanist had left, 2D went to bed (it was 'dark' out, he thought bitterly), but it was still dark when he woke up. Or was it dark again?

Not really knowing what to do, he decided to go through all the clothes that were strewn about in the corner of boxes. He started feeling a bit nostalgic when he came over his Hello Kinky shirt again, now in the right mind to appreciate it. How long has it been since he's tried that thing on? 2D wondered if any of these clothes would even fit him anymore. It was doubtful.

He didn't notice before, but there were a few of his wristbands and other things mixed in the pile too. Happy to find his black leather wristband with silver studs, he snapped it on his wrist with a grin and continued to search through the stuff. Maybe his dogtags were in here as well...

"Yes!" the singer said, spying two silver chains from out of the pocket of a pair of not-skinny jeans. The dogtags were still shiny and intact, and he put them on quickly.

2D kept looking through the clothes, and felt a bit sadder at each garment. Murdoc had kept almost everything... why? How long had he been planning this?

When he spotted his T-Virus shirt, he flattened it out in front of him over everything else to look at it. He made a note to try it on later and see if it fit. The blue-haired man frowned, though, when there seemed to be a small red dot on the fabric. He tried to see if he could wipe it off, but his hand went under it, and he pulled back quickly, confused.

2D moved his hand to the bright dot again, and it hovered over his hand in accordance. He tried it again. The dot went over his hand, as if projected. A suspicious feeling was starting to rise in his throat, and it felt as though the air in the room was suddenly thinner.

He tensed, and slowly craned his neck to look up the wall, into the corner of the ceiling. It took a long time to get the courage to look all the way. Now that the vocalist was calm, he could see it clearly, shoddily covered with overcrossing wires and cables that ran through the room.

A camera.

The red dot was being projected from the bottom front of the thing through a light, a telltale sign that it was on and working. It took a moment for the singer to actually process what he was staring at. For God-knows-how-long, he gazed at the glossy lens that gazed back down at him with the dot under it, until the actual fact that a camera was in his room sunk into his head.

Murdoc had a CAMERA in his BEDROOM.

He did the first thing that came to mind. With long, unsteady limbs he scrambled up from the floor and over to the wall, reaching up to the contraption. His fingers barely grazed the bottom of it, so he went on his tiptoes for a better grip. 2D grabbed the first wire he came in contact with and tugged on it as hard as he could, yanking it out of the plastic box-part with a crackle of electricity that almost zapped him. The red button was still on. "Fuck!" 2D shouted. He leaned up with a strange noise to grab another wire and pull. A short beep this time, and the red dot blinked out.

Just to be safe, the vocalist ripped every wire he could see coming from the camera, which was mounted on a post from the ceiling. He put his hand over the protruding lens but couldn't screw it off, so settled for rather-obsessively scratching at the glass until he couldn't see it clearly. Unfortunately, the post was too high for him to try to pull the camera fully off, but he was happy with the ending result.

2D went back to stand on flat feet and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and put a hand to his chest, trying to control his fluttering heartbeat. He was still very freaked out. He didn't really know what it meant, if Murdoc was watching him, or hired someone, or has some kind of system, but all he knew is that it made him very uncomfortable and extremely anxious.

But he had definitely disabled the camera. Would Murdoc find out? Of course he could, 2D practically waved for it when he reached up there, and wouldn't the screen on whatever-other-end go fuzzy? Did Murdoc have other cameras? He was beginning to stress himself out even moreso and took a few steps back and some deep breaths.

In, out. In, out. Count to three. In, out. Can't get a headache.

After a few moments of repeating that to himself, he was alright. He took a deep breath and another step back. Everything would be alright. He'll explain his way out of it. It's Murdoc's fault anyway, who the fuck puts a camera in someone's room? Murdoc'll be pissed, but 2D's taken many beatings before, he could handle another. But Murdoc was probably too busy to keep track of whatever sort of feed the camera was giving all the time, it could be at least a few hours until he found out... unless he had some sort of alarm? 2D was getting paranoid again and walked over to the bed to sit down.

He didn't even reach the middle of the room before he heard lightening-fast, heavy footsteps coming from down the hall. How did he know about it so quickly?

The noise of the locks morphed into one sound with how quick they were, and before he knew it the door was thrown open and the bassist was charging at him. He didn't have time to move back, and he yelped when a hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward.

"Who the FUCK do you THINK you ARE?" Murdoc snarled, face-to-face with him. 2D gulped and tried to pull away, but Murdoc shook him by his shirt until he stopped struggling. "You brain-dead, anorexic, twisted piece of shit!"

2D was about to remark that he really wasn't the twisted one here, and Murdoc should look in a mirror for that, but the satanist had reared up a fist and punched him in the jaw before he had gotten a word out. His head snapped back with an unpleasant noise, and he probably would have gone flying if Murdoc hadn't kept a firm hold on his shirt. 2D coughed. He opened his mouth, looking as if he was going to say something, so Murdoc punched him again.

This time he let go of the other's collar when he did, and the singer shouted when the satanist's fist connected with his cheek, sending him to the ground with a heavy thud.

"M-Murdoc, w-wot the fuck, ya... ya can't just..." he faltered, trying to form a full sentence, but he was a little dazed. The singer shakily began to stand up, but the older man was over him in a second and reached down to grab him by the shirt again, pulling him up. 2D braced himself for another hit, which came quickly down into his right eye. His knees buckled beneath him and he cried out, being held up by the man. "Aah! W-Wait, jus' wait..."

He growled and shook his head, lifting his hand again, but 2D reached and slapped it away before he could be hit. Murdoc hissed and dropped the singer, who almost fell but caught his balance and staggered back. The satanist advanced on him immediately, and 2D tried to step back again but he tripped over a thick cable and hit the ground. "M-Muds, let's talk 'bout this, alright? W-We're both at fault here..."

"Shut up!" he roared, moving to stand over him. The vocalist wasn't prepared for the kick that was sent into his side, making him curl up and groan. Forcing himself to get up as fast as he could, he stumbled to dodge another kick that missed him by a hair. 2D finally got to his feet again and turned to face Murdoc. The man swung a fist at him, but missed this time when the singer hopped an inch away, and surprised Murdoc by actually landing a punch under his jaw.

The punch made a satisfying sound that had 2D grinning, but it was short-lived when the other quickly recovered and whacked him up the side of the head, making him stumble backwards. His vision swam for a second, and in that time, Murdoc had grabbed him and slammed him into one of the pillars supporting the ceiling. He made a pained noise, but didn't relent.

"Wh-why'd ya put... put a camera in me room?" the blue-haired man panted.

But Murdoc was excellent at avoiding the subject.

He didn't say anything, but a displeased noise left his throat, and he fisted a hand in the singer's hair and forced his head up. The memory of the last incident flickered through 2D's mind and he raised his hands and pushed at the man's chest. Murdoc barely moved, and shook the other by his hair violently. A painful ringing had set in his ears.

Using as much strength as he could muster right then, 2D lifted a leg in-between them and kicked him in the stomach, sending Murdoc stumbling backwards. The satanist wrapped an arm over his stomach and coughed twice, a little hunched over.

"I-I'm sorry Muds! But ya gotta stop, we can talk 'bout this! If ya fink about it, it's not really me fault, I mean you're the one who put it up, wot would you do if ya found a-"

2D was really starting to hate getting cut off by Murdoc. Especially when it was done with punches.

The thin man shot a hand over his left eye with a loud yell, collapsing back into the pillar. Murdoc just chuckled, apparently recovered. 2D gulped and slowly tried blinking the hollow eye that had been struck. He knew it would only be a short time before he couldn't see out of it. He pushed it into the back of his mind in order to swing back, hitting his cheekbone. He was weaker than the other, but the punch still had its impact, making Murdoc curse and roll his head back. It was almost eerie how quickly he shook it off, though.

They exchanged hits and blows for awhile, and 2D had been able to remove himself from being backed against the pillar, and was now in the middle of the room, a bit stooped over from the kick in the chest that had thrown him there. He was panting, and in worse shape than Murdoc, whose worst bruise at the moment was just beginning to turn the barest shade of red.

2D was already looking like someone had tried to run him over.

Murdoc would have to run out of steam eventually, he thought, and hoped it would be sooner rather than later. But the older man didn't look the least bit tired yet, and very, very angry. The look in his eyes led the singer to believe that the reason for this fight ran deeper than a security camera. He frowned. "Murdoc, why... why're ya so angry 'bout this?" he breathed.

As expected, the man didn't answer. He walked over to the cluttered desk, ignoring 2D's words, seeming to be looking for something. It confused the other, but it meant Murdoc was distracted from beating him, so he didn't object. "Murdoc?" he tried, but the other continued to ignore him, and began rifling through the cables, papers, and other knicknacks lying around. 2D was dying to know what had made the satanist lose focus so quickly, but didn't want to bring it up in case it brought the focus back on him. "M-Muds? You... you awright?"

When he made a victorious grin, 2D knew he found what he was looking for, but couldn't see it until he lifted it up.

His eyes went impossibly wide.

A box-end wrench.

How did he not notice it was there before?

When Murdoc turned back to face 2D, wrench in hand, the other scrambled back at each step he took. "Now Muds, put that down, there's no need for that, awright? We can talk, m'sorry I destroyed your camera, but just put... put the wrench down. Please?"

He didn't, but his smirk grew, and began walking towards him. 2D took a step back with every step forward, fear beginning to creep into his veins. His eyes never left the thing in his hands.

Murdoc missed the first time he had swung at him, thanks to 2D side-stepping out of it. But he was quick to recalculate, and the second swing brought the wrench right down into his forearm. The singer shrieked, feeling the edge of the box-end dig in and split the skin, cracking into bone before the man pulled it back. 2D looked down at the gash with an almost horrified look as blood began to rise and pool over quickly, running down his arm and hand as easily as water. It had been awhile since he had gotten any horrible injuries, and it was a bit unsettling to see exactly where the layers of skin gave way to the smallest sliver of bone. Did Murdoc know what damage he was doing?

No, he didn't, because while the singer was caught up in staring at the wound, Murdoc was even closer. And before he knew it, the wrench was brought down into his shoulder. Hard.

Another loud shout, and 2D crumpled to his knees. The shocks of pain that skittered across his collarbone were more intense, and felt like knives under his skin. He tried to put a hand to where he was struck to feel the damage, but the light touch made him cringe, and 2D was alarmed to find his hand wet with more blood when he took it back.

Murdoc laughed.

The man put a boot up on his uninjured shoulder and pushed the singer onto his back. 2D looked up at him with wide eyes, deciding that staying still and trying not to anger Murdoc would be the best course of action. Murdoc seemed to observe him with an almost curious look, leather boot still firmly on 2D's shoulder. The singer was panting, face flushed and beginning to bruise in several places, blood slowly soaking his t-shirt and the carpet below. His left eye was already starting to swell closed.

The heel of the boot begun to dig into his shoulder, and it wasn't too painful at first and 2D tried to hold back the noise he knew Murdoc wanted to hear. He did, too, until Murdoc actually STEPPED on him, putting all of his weight into it. 2D made a choked whimper and lifted his arm to swat at Murdoc's leg, but he dug his heel against him harder, forcing another pained sound from him before allowing the singer to it off.

But the satanist moved and knelt down behind his head. He had put the wrench down, but it didn't help 2D's nerves. He crouched over him, and there was a distant look on Murdoc's face, as if he was thinking of what to do. It worried 2D and he groaned, trying to lean up on his elbows to shift away from him. The other would have none of it and shoved him back down by his shoulder. Murdoc wasn't smiling anymore, he noted. But he wasn't really frowning.

A hand took grip in the blue strands of his hair firmly, lifting his head a few inches up from the ground. 2D winced and lifted his uninjured arm to hit him, but Murdoc slapped it away. "Muds, don't-"

"Sorry, luv, I gotta. We'll fix you up later."

He didn't understand at first, but when his head was forced up a little more, he shrieked and lifted both hands to push away. Realization of the other's intent hit his eyes a second too late. The bassist's hand tightened in his hair and yanked, slamming the back of his head down into the floor.

He blacked out before he felt the crash.


	6. Fading Out

The first thing that he came to notice was the explosive migraine he had developed while unconscious.

For awhile, he didn't open his eyes, slowly trying to clear the fog of his mind to figure out what happened, why he was in so much pain. 2D thought for a moment, blocking out everything else to concentrate.

Ah, yes.

Murdoc happened.

The memories came flooding back quickly once discovered; finding the camera and pulling it apart, Murdoc storming down, the fight that had insued, the wrench that was picked up from the table... But that didn't explain why he blacked out...

But he remembered quickly when a twinge of pain rocketed through him, starting at the back of his head.

That fucking bastard.

A faint rustling noise was heard from somewhere beside him, and the singer made a soft noise. He was lying down on what felt to be his mattress, but there was a weight on the edge of the bed. The singer was afraid it was Murdoc and tried to scoot away, attempting to crack open an eye to see.

Another shock of pain, but it wasn't as bad as the fact that 2D COULDN'T open his eye, or move very much at all. Not even a small bit.

"Nnguh... Muds?" he croaked. There was no answer.

The weight shifted, though, closer to his side, and 2D thought he could hear a small hum. He felt the hem of his shirt being carefully lifted and pushed up an inch, and tried to escape accordingly, but the singer's limbs didn't obey. He couldn't even feel them. The man tried to twitch his fingers, and managed to just barely.

"Iss'at you, Muds?" 2D tried again, speech a little mumbled. If the person (he knew it was, it had to be) next to him was his old friend, the singer didn't want any of whatever he was doing. "S-Sod off."

A cold cloth was pressed to a bruise on 2D's stomach, making him hiss. The cloth had some sort of salve on it that stung a little, but quickly cooled off and made the skin a little numb. Whatever it was was dabbed onto a few other bruises he had on his stomach before being taken off. 2D was about to try to move away again, when a hand grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it back down again.

He felt the fingers as they pulled the garment this time, small and thin, too smooth and careful to be Murdoc's.

2D froze.

"Who's 'at?" he muttered, and his jaw ached when he spoke. "...Y-You aren't M-Murdoc. Who are you? D-Do I know ya?"

His mind started racing. There was someone else in Plastic Beach. Why weren't they talking? Why where they helping him? 2D took a deep breath, wincing. Almost every movement made something else hurt. "C'mon, answer me, please!"

No response.

Was he hallucinating? 2D was still on the verge on consciousness, he wasn't sure if he could trust what his brain was telling him or not.

He took another deep breath, and tried to open his eyes again. His left lid rebelled in pain and didn't budge, but the blue-haired man was able to force his right one to open a sliver. His vision was blurry and tinted with red, morphing the lines of everything into eachother, but what he saw still made him gasp.

A dark purple, almost-black head of hair was hovering over him, shadowing a round face and slanted eyes in darkness. He couldn't see the expression or details of her face, but 2D recognized her immediately. His heart leapt, anxiety and disbelief creeping into his throat.

"N-Noodle?"

There was an ominous feeling to the room that 2D hated, and he groaned and tried to jerk his wrists again. He felt a cold pressure on them, and quickly realized his arms were cuffed to the corner rail of his bed. The singer cursed himself, wondering why THAT wasn't the first thing he noticed when waking up. But he could barely feel his arms, anyway, and guessed that Murdoc had slipped him a few of his meds, or he was severely concussed. Probably both.

It was an effort to keep his eye open, and he tried to move his arms again, but didn't find the energy. "Noods? Say summfink, please... I-I..."

A waver of blackness hit him, one that crept into his brain for a moment, and when he was able to think again, his eye wouldn't re-open.

2D swore loudly, but his voice was hoarse.

"Noodle!"

There was an odd, muffled buzzing sound, one that he had heard come from the tubes in the far wall, and he paused. When the small hands moved to the collar of his shirt, tugging it to the side, the noise got louder. It was barely there, but it rung horribly in 2D's ears. His head protested sharply with another dive into black, and it lasted longer than the others.

2D didn't to let this one win, but it was too strong, and he sagged back against the bed. The image of a blurry Noodle burnt into his eyelids as he fell back into unconsciousness, head buzzing.

* * *

Oh God.

Everything HURT.

2D tried to curl up into himself and hide from whatever it was that caused him to wake up. Sleep was much less painful, and he groaned, remembering why he couldn't pull his arms down to his chest.

Fuck. He hated when things like this turned out to be real, and not over-medicated fantasies.

"Oi, finally awake?" a familiar voice rang through his head. He cringed at it, but was glad it wasn't that awful buzzing from earlier. But if the buzzing was gone... The singer straightened out as best he could on the best, listening carefully. He cracked open the less-hurt of his hollow eyes and looked around.

He was disappointed when the face hovering above him was Murdoc's, and not the half-memorable visage of Noodle that he had seen last.

Murdoc was smirking down at him, bring uncomfortable memories to the surface. He tried to shrink away from the hand that brushed a hair out of his face. "D-DON'T TOUCH ME, MURDOC!" 2D screamed suddenly, turning his head. Murdoc twitched and pulled his hand back, seeming genuinely surprised at this.

And... even a little hurt?

The emotion was fleeting on his face, though, and 2D thought he hallucinated it. The man quickly composed a glare at him that chilled his blood, and brought his hand back down to grab his jaw. A twinge of pain ran through at the simple action. It made 2D wonder how bad he looked right then.

"2D." Murdoc hissed simply, and the singer looked pitiful as he glanced up a him with one semi-open, purple eye. His other eye was swollen shut completely. "I am trying to help yew right now, aw'ight? It would be in yer best interest to jus' play nice."

He was in a lot of pain; whatever medication or substance that was numbing him earlier seemed completely out of his system. His collarbone ached with every breath, and 2D knew that he had fractured something around his neck or shoulder. The vocalist was even a little glad for his arms being tied above him, since he didn't want to know the damage done to his arm.

That fucking wrench. Murdoc could've killed him.

It felt like he almost did.

"No, you bloody arse, leggo'a me!" he shouted, trying to jerk away from Murdoc without putting himself in too much pain. He moved out of the grip, and Murdoc drew his hand back and slapped him across the face. Immediately, the shocks crackled through his entire skull, and he cried out.

But the hand came back to his face, gently now with the other, cupping his face and tilting his chin up. 2D looked back at the bassist, who seemed very concerned. "See, luv? Jus' lay there for now, lemme fix you up, and I won't hit ya, alright?"

He made a choked noise in the back of his throat and creased his brows, still feeling the tingling pains from Murdoc's hand. He didn't say anything to that, but closed his eye and sighed, so Murdoc took it as a sign of defeat. "Good." the older man whispered, and ran a hand through the other's blue bangs. 2D pouted, but didn't protest.

The strands were moved out of his face entirely, and 2D felt Murdoc's fingers poke at a cut on the curve of his cheekbone. He winced, but quickly after the touch, he felt his friend press a bandage over the injury. A sound of something ripping, and Murdoc put two strips of tape over the cotton square. The tape itched on the bruise a bit but was easy to ignore. "I know it 'urt, just stay there..."

2D scoffed.

Murdoc was acting like he cared.

"Y-You..." he tried at first, but had to start again. "...You're the one who did this ta me."

"I know." the other said simply. "But I... had to."

The singer almost tried to punch him for that, but quickly remembered where his arms were, and how painful the attempt would probably be. And definitely unsuccessful. But something else creeped into his head. Maybe if he didn't make a fuss, Murdoc would answer a few more questions...

"...H-Hey... uh, Muds?"

The man paused in whatever he was doing - 2D couldn't see, but heard something clink - and sighed. "Yeah, face-ache?"

The fuzzy image of the supposed-Noodle flashed through his mind.

"Where's... uh... where's Noodle?"

A pause.

"I'unno what yer talking about."

2D groaned. "I saw 'er, Muds! Earlier! She was takin' care of me!" he shouted. It was obvious by the tone in Murdoc's voice that something was going on. He just wished the man was more fucking honest with him, especially given the circumstances. "I know Noodle, an' she was here!"

The satanist chuckled, and he seemed to sound a bit surprised, despite 2D's suspicions.

"2D, pet, I really haven't got a clue what yer talking about. Did I really hit ya that hard?"

He was starting to get angry again. "Ya mean didja beat me wif a wrench that hard, and smash me head inta the ground that hard? Yeah, Muds, I fink ya did!" 2D instantly regretted being so loud, though, when his head throbbed horribly. Murdoc put a hand on his uninjured shoulder, firmly, but it felt like Murdoc was trying to calm him down. 2D didn't want to use the word 'comfort'.

"I had to."

There was some more clinking and rustling around, and 2D opened his mouth to protest Murdoc's words this time. But he couldn't, because immediately a small, round tablet was pushed against his lips. He closed his lips quickly and tried to turn away, not knowing what it was, but a firm grip moved to his jaw and tugged a bit.

"It's a painkiller, 'D."

Although he was unbelievably furious at the man, that was all 2D needed in order to part his lips and let the man push the pill in. Right after, the cold rim of what he guessed was a glass was pressed to his mouth, and he let Murdoc tilt his chin and pour the liquid into his mouth. It was water, as he suspected, and it helped him swallow the pill easily. Murdoc pulled the glass back and he heard him put it down.

A chill ran through his entire body once the pill slipped down his throat, and he took a deep breath. Murdoc was a fucking prick, but he was especially grateful for the medicine. He still wanted to talk, argue with Murdoc, ask about Noodle...or not-Noodle, according to him. But it was getting hard, since his muscles all seemed lax and unresponsive.

Damn, that was a quick pill.

He had to remember to ask for the name later.

Later because the vocalist was beginning to feel a bit sleepy. He realized that it wasn't a simple painkiller anymore, something much stronger and fast-acting, probably a sleeping medication that Murdoc got his hands on. Fucking bastard lied about that, too. But it was a pleasant feeling that was turning his pain into nothingness, so he couldn't fully complain.

"M-Muds, you arse, this isn't..." he trailed off. The other chuckled, and leaned over 2D, although his eyes were shut.

"But it's killing yer pain, ain't it?"

He would've rolled his eyes if he wasn't afraid to. Murdoc was honest about that, at least. 2D made a quiet, tired groan and shifted on the bed, surprised and extremely thankful when it didn't make him cringe. His skin tingled as the numbing set in.

"I-I guess it is, yeah."

His voice was quiet and half-aware, suddenly feeling very warm, and much more sleepy. He could faintly hear Murdoc laugh again, and felt a light touch to his chest for a moment. "Yew gotta sleep now. I'll be back to check on ya in a lil bit, but I think you'll be out cold by then. But seriously, 'D, I want yew ta sleep. Don't fight it, alright? Yer gonna need it now."

He cursed himself, wondering how Murdoc knew exactly what he was thinking. He was planning on trying to stay awake, keep an ear out for anything, maybe for Noodle again... but Murdoc's words lured him in. Sleep seemed overwhelming right now, and it was too hard not to let it take over.

So he did.

2D fell asleep to whatever pill it was, with Murdoc's hand still on his chest. He hoped that most of his time on "Plastic Beach" wouldn't be spent unconscious, as that was slowly looking like how he'd be spending his time.


	7. Promises

Waking up this time was a gentler experience this time.

He was still in pain, but it had eased somewhat into sore patches of the more injured places, not his entire body. 2D took a deep breath, and it was a little constricted. He didn't know at why first, but another few deep breaths made him feel something over his chest. The singer moved to touch whatever it was, but his hands dug into cold metal and stayed above his head; reminding him all over again.

He wished he could open his eyes. Although he wasn't sure if he was awake enough to do it yet, anyways.

The pressure didn't leave though, and spread a bit on his chest. His head swam, and he still felt like he was sleeping, but floating at the same time. 2D wondered if he was waking up or just dreaming; he couldn't tell. Maybe he was sick? It wasn't unlikely, and he did feel a bit feverish. More than a bit, actually, it seemed quite hot to him...

Whatever was on his front moved down an inch, and 2D inhaled sharply. He was trying to figure it out, wondering if it was Noodle, or Murdoc, or... something else. He felt something dig into his skin just the slightest bit, and he froze. Were those... nails?

Yes, they were. It was a hand.

"M-Murdoc?"

The hand drew back immediately.

The singer's brows creased. "Muds? Issat you?" he mumbled, voice barely a whisper. He didn't have the strength to raise his voice, his throat feeling a little numb. He swallowed thickly. Wishing his brain wasn't so clouded, he strained to listen, and would've compared the feeling to being high if he wasn't so unaware of what was going on. There wasn't an answer, but something shifted on the mattress, and 2D snapped his head in that direction. "Muds?"

After a long pause, he was answered.

"Yeah, 'D?" came the whisper finally, in a low tone. 2D relaxed visibly at his friend's voice. He frowned, though, thinking of what to say.

"I-I didn' know it was you." he managed. "Wot're ya doin'?"

"Making sure yer still alive, face-ache." the satanist said quickly. "What do yew think I'm doing?"

2D took a moment and thought. What should he say to that? Did Murdoc even know what he was talking about?

"I, uh... I thought ya were... nevermind." he muttered off quickly as his mind went black for a moment. Murdoc's hand was just on his chest, wasn't it? Maybe he was dreaming. 2D wished Murdoc hadn't given him whatever that pill was, even if it killed his pain.

He could hear the older man cackle from what seemed far away, although he knew he was sitting right next to him.

"Yew don't even know what yer talking about, do ya?"

2D sighed, and would've rolled his eyes if he could. He knew what he was talking about, he wasn't COMPLETELY incoherent. The tone of the question made him shiver, and he felt like Murdoc was hiding something. But then again, he always was. "Oi! I know... I know wot'm talkin' about, m'just a little... uh... tired." he said. The vocalist was still bothered by it. He knew that Murdoc was touching him. Why didn't he say anything? 2D couldn't let it pass.

"I felt... I thought I felt summfink on me. When I was first wakin' up."

Murdoc took a moment before speaking, and his voice was softer this time, slower.

"You're still half-dead, 'D. Yer probably seeing shit."

He was probably just paranoid anyways.

A touch to his hair snapped 2D's attention over to Murdoc. He wished he could see him right then. His vision was black behind his eyelids, and he didn't even know if it was light in the room or not. He couldn't figure out his surroundings, and it was driving him CRAZY.

"Don't... don't touch me, Muds. Please." he whispered, as if he didn't want to get him angry. Although he hated him right now, he liked it better when the man was in a good mood. But he still wasn't comfortable with being touched.

He heard a scoff - almost disbelieving - before the hand drew back. 2D was afraid for a moment that Murdoc was going to hit him, but he was lucky after a pause of nothing. Murdoc spoke.

"Do NOT tell me what to do." the satanist hissed, and it send a shiver down the other's spine in a very bad way. 2D was furious; it wasn't a ridiculous request, after being gassed, kiddnapped, beaten within an inch of his life by the man. And Murdoc had the audacity to yell at him for not wanting to be touched?

He would've been more angry if he could think straight.

The weight shifted on the bed as Murdoc stood up, but 2D didn't hear him walk away, so he turned his head to where he assumed he would be. It might've just looked like a half-lucid roll of his head, because the bassist chuckled in a mocking manner. He wanted to swear at him, yell at Murdoc, but he knew he would get hit, or Murdoc would leave. 2D didn't want either of those things. He felt more aware when the other was with him.

"M-Muds?" he tried, softer this time.

There was a pause, and Murdoc made a frustrated sigh, but 2D knew it meant he could continue.

"W-Wot day is it today? Y-Ya don't gotta tell me the date or nuffink, just of the week maybe? It... it sorta kills me not ta know."

He heard the man step forward, and felt something beside him. 2D guessed Murdoc had knelt next to the bed when he heard his voice right in his ear. "It's... Wednesday, face-ache." the satanist said slowly. The pause made him frown, but he relaxed when Murdoc actually answered him.

It was Wednesday.

2D smiled a bit, although a crack of pain spiked down his jaw. It faded quickly. "F-Fanks, Muds. Means alot."

Hearing Murdoc stand up, the singer craned his neck an inch in that direction. "Don't thank me. Told ya before. Alright?" he asked. 2D sighed and moved his head back up to the ceiling, although he still couldn't see. Why didn't Murdoc want to be thanked?

"I... Aw'ight. M'sorry."

"Don't be."

"But I-"

"-Just shuddup then, will ya?" he finally shouted, and 2D flinched visibly at it. He made a weak nod, head ringing a bit. It was awkward to sit in silence with Murdoc, even if they weren't on good terms. The singer sighed and obeyed this time. He tested the strength of his bonds, which clinked mockingly when the motion barely touched them; they must've been fastened to one of the poles against the head of the bed. Murdoc laughed when he saw what 2D was up to. "...Yew ain't gettin' outta there, luv."

An anxious noise left the blue-haired man's lips, and he tugged his hands again, despite the pain that followed it. "Muds, ya can't keep me tied up here. I fink you've broken a few fings. Th-they can't heal like this."

"No, they can't, but your bones can wait to mend until I know I trust you all by yerself." the bassist purred. His voice seemed closer, and 2D shrunk away accordingly. The barest touch of his nails raked up his arm, and he shivered. "Yer hands stay bound until you promise to be good."

2D felt the heat of the other's skin when their hands brushed, but Murdoc pulled back when 2D's fingers curled away.

"Can ya promise me that, 2D?"

The singer twitched and resisted the urge to shrink back. It was hard not to shout out, retort, spit in the goddamn satanist's face- but he had to weigh his options. Staying tied up on the bed for more then a day sounded very unpleasant, and he couldn't feel his fingers. But would 2D be able to actually play nice?

He could pretend to, at least.

"I-I guess that's reasonable. I can promise ya."

Murdoc chuckled. "Alright. So yew can. Do ya? Promise to be a good boy, in exchange for me letting yer hands go?"

Frowning at the phrasing, he sighed, testing the strength in his numb arms once more, regretting it when he could feel the slightest pain hint into his head. "Yeah. I promise, Muds." 2D whispered quietly, breathing heavy. Murdoc's hands ghosted up to his wrists, fastened in what felt to be some sort of metal cuffs around the headboard piping. He heard a few clinks, and the man fiddled with something on the edge.

There was a click, and 2D gasped as he felt the bassist's hands surround his. Murdoc gently brought the other's arms down to his chest, and 2D was glad he went slow, because each movement made his arms ache. His hands were lifted in the air (2D guessed Murdoc was assessing the damage), and the metal was unhooked from around his wrists. He heard the older man put it down somewhere next to the bed.

"F-Fank you, Muds." he tried, thinking this did warrant a thank you. Hopefully Murdoc wouldn't hit him.

"...Eh, no problem, face-ache."


	8. Hallucinations?

2D had asked for his painkillers not a whole day after whatever Murdoc had given him wore off.

At first he had begun feeling blindly around the side shelf for any sort of bottle or container that they would be in, but he could only do it every so often, since Murdoc spent what he thought was most of the day with him. He didn't want to ask in case the other got angry for some ridiculous reason, but he could feel EVERYTHING, every little injury, including a migraine, and listening to the other chatter on wasn't helping any.

The singer shifted more on his side and groaned.

"Muds?"

"What the fuck do yew want?" came the quick reply, although beforehand, the bassist was just talking about the new album or something - 2D was trying not to listen, the man sounded drunk, but he was too far away for any real signs.

Might as well be honest with him.

"I want me meds." he said simply. The other was silent for a moment, so he craned his head in that direction. 2D had only ventured from the bed a few times when needed so far; it was the farthest point from wherever Murdoc usually was, although the man didn't seem to have many boundaries. And it was more than painful to move very much without something to help it.

Murdoc laughed, but the singer heard him begin to walk across the room.

He still couldn't fucking SEE.

If he couldn't manage to open his eyes yet, the damage might be bad. Really bad. 2D feared how his face looked, and Murdoc hadn't really commented much yet. Maybe he would ask later.

"Why should I give 'em to ya?"

2D sighed. It was always a fight.

"...Look, I've been good, awright? Haven't fought ya none more or nuffink. I can barely move anyways, and you know I ain't good wifout them. Can't ya just give 'em to me? I've been trying to find some of them on the shelf all day."

He heard Murdoc snort at this, and then metal scrape against the floor. Murdoc pulled a chair to sit next to him on the bed, he assumed. The faint smell of whiskey hit his nose. "I know. I've seen you sneaking around."

2D didn't care at this point, and he pouted. "C'mon, Muds."

The man sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I got 'em right here."

There was some rustling, and 2D could imagine Murdoc grinning like a madman as he pulled out 2D's pills. He probably dangled them in his face without 2D ever even knowing. Murdoc would do something like that. Just knowing that he was being cruel to 2D was enough, even if 2D didn't know then.

"Hold out yer hand."

The singer obeyed immediately and without question. Two pills were dropped into his hand, and he frowned. They were his green-and-white capsules (or they felt like them), his favourite painkiller. The prescribed dose was 1, 2 if needed. 2D took a minimum of 3 every time, 4 or 5 if needed. Murdoc knew this.

He whined a little and lifted his head. "Muds?" 2D tried. "Ya know I need more than that. Me head's gonna be killin' in a few minutes."

"Why should I give ya more then that? Yer only supposed to take 2 at the most anyways. You're an addict, 2D." he replied smoothly. "I don't want my singer popping pills all the time." The satanist's tone was teasing, and for some reason these words struck a nerve with 2D. He almost growled and fisted the hand that wasn't holding his medication.

"Ya didn't have a problem wif it when we were all at Kong, didja?" 2D shouted, and although his own voice made his head ring a little, he didn't stop, and inwardly smiled when he heard Murdoc gasp unwittingly at his outburst. "No, back then, you seemed pretty fine wif shoving pills down my throat! And switching my meds all the time, an' getting me new ones wiffout me realizing it, and helping me take 'em when I was too zonked out to do it meself! Don't fucking try ta fool me, Muds. You never gave a shit wot 'yer singer' did, as long as my voice worked fine. I know ya don't care, so just gimme wot I need fer now, awright? If it makes you feel powerful, you can keep the bottle. I just need another two pills."

There was a deathly silence, and it stretched so long that 2D began to get a bit nervous as to how Murdoc would react. The man always seemed surprised when 2D showed emotions other than happy, obedient, stoned, or asleep, and he was never usually pleased with the new ones, either.

His hand that held the pills was still outstretched, and he was afraid Murdoc might try to take them back, so he brought it to his mouth and swallowed them quickly with a frustrated sound. Murdoc laughed.

"Reading my mind, are ya?" he asked, confirming 2D's suspicions. He frowned again, knowing Murdoc had already decided not to give him any more. He shouldn't have gotten so angry.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean ta yell."

Murdoc just scoffed, and misplaced guilt crept into 2D's brain. His head still hurt, as did his entire body, but he knew his pills would help a LITTLE, at least. For a moment, his mind went back to whatever pill it was that Murdoc had given him, and how painless everything was afterwards. Would Murdoc be willing to give him another?

"I really am, Muds."

"Already told ya to stop apologizing so much. Yer not getting more."

2D's shoulders sagged a little.

"W-Wot about..." he trailed off. 2D was a little afraid to actually ask. "... Wot about the, err, the pill ya gave me earlier? Ya only gave me one, but I couldn't feel anyfing... was pretty nice, actually... My pills're only for headaches, but that got ridda everyfing..."

There was another pause, but it didn't scare the singer this time. The entire mood of the room changed when Murdoc laughed; colder this time, but a little more mirthful. The combination made 2D uneasy, but he quietly waited for an answer. He heard some rustling, and Murdoc's chair scooted closer to the bed.

"...Alright, then." he finally answered, and 2D heard the jiggle of a pill bottle being uncapped. 2D opened his hand again, but Murdoc just laughed. "No, no." the man said, moving closer and leaning over the singer. 2D felt it, and scooted back on the bed until he ran into the pillows against the headboard. He looked up at where he assumed Murdoc was. The smell of whiskey got a bit stronger, and he sighed. "I ain't gonna hurt ya." Murdoc muttered, seeming a little irritated. "Open your mouth."

He hesitated, still a bit thrown back at the nerve Murdoc showed sometimes. After a moment he listened though, and parted his lips. Immediately, he felt Murdoc press a small, round pill to his lips, and 2D let him push it in. Once it was in his mouth he pulled back right away though, swallowing it quickly and turning his head from Murdoc. The other just scoffed and sat back in his chair.

"Fank ya, Muds."

"Shut it, face-ache."

It was hard to surpress a laugh at that, and 2D wasn't really sure why. Maybe because the response was so automatic. It had been a long time, but they still fell into their old patterns, and it was obvious. To 2D, at least. Murdoc might be a little to drunk or insane to pay attention or care. Maybe both.

A short giggle broke through anyways, and the satanist grumbled. He heard him stand up. "Murdoc?"

"I'm going to get yew some food, don't get yer panties in a bunch." he quipped. "I think it's been a day or two since I last fed ya."

At the thought of food, his stomach growled. He cursed it and drew his legs to his chest. "You haven't been keeping track?" the singer snapped back. True, he had been unconscious for most of the time, but he was a little angry still. This whole situation was ridiculous. If Murdoc wanted 2D to treat him like a friend, he couldn't treat 2D like a prisoner. It wasn't right.

"Well, you've been out mosta the time, to be honest. An' a normal person would SAY when they're hungry, so I feel myself exempt from blame."

The man's tone was sarcastic, but light enough that it didn't irk him too badly. There were truth to his words, anyways. He turned his head away, even though he couldn't see Murdoc in the first place. His footsteps were soft across the room, and 2D muttered a goodbye before he began to turn the latch.

"I'll be back in a sec with a snack or something, shut up." he muttered back when he got the door open. It shut again quickly, and the room seemed a bit more calm suddenly. It wasn't a surprise.

"Fucking prick." 2D whispered, sinking back into the pillows.

He waited a few minutes for Murdoc, but the pill was too quick for him. 2D's breathing slowed, and he swore under his breath, trying to will himself to stay awake. He forgot how strong the medication was, and felt a bit stupid for wanting it this time.

Another minute or so, and he was on the verge of consciousness.

Fuck.

2D heard the sound of footsteps, but they were so quiet and distorted that he might have been fooling himself. Once the scrape of metal-on-metal rang into the back of his mind, though, he knew Murdoc was at the door. He heard it creak open, and close right after, but the singer didn't have the strength to turn his head. He tried, of course, but his body was past responding to him. It was probably a good thing.

When the footsteps approached, 2D made a quiet noise of acknowledgment to let the other know he was awake. Murdoc's laughter ran through him at this, and he shivered. "M... Muds?..." the singer tried, barely above a whisper, slurred. It bothered him that Murdoc found his semi-aware state terribly amusing. Least someone did. The mattress dipped a bit as the bassist sat next to him.

"Right here, luv." came the reply. His voice was soft, and didn't hold any malice. It contrasted from his laugh, but 2D was grateful just the same. A few strands of hair were brushed out of his face: the singer didn't want to gather the strength to push him away. "I brought ya some food fer later. Are you starting to feel better now?"

A content sigh was his only reply.

The air got a little warmer when Murdoc actually ran a hand -through- his hair, and he attempted to move his head away. It didn't work, and instead he just let his head fall back to the pillows. The laugh he heard from the other this time wasn't hurtful or sarcastic, so he didn't protest. Faint thoughts ran through the corners of his mind, though, as to why Murdoc was only nice to him when he was half-conscious. Oh well. He appreciated the change. 2D still wasn't positive whether he was dreaming or not.

Murdoc moved his hand from the thin man's hair. It moved down to hover over his collarbone, where 2D felt his shirt collar being tugged a little to the side. A echo of pain flashed across him, but it was too quick to bother. What was Murdoc doing?

His brain faded to black for a second, so he'd never find out. Murdoc was closer when he regained slight consciousness. He could feel it.

"W-Wot're ya..." he trailed off in a weak voice.

"... I'm so sorry, 2D."

The singer didn't know if he had heard right. He tried to catch onto the words, but it was almost impossible. Sleep was already overtaking him, and he swore to himself for succumbing so easily. Did Murdoc just... apologize?

His thoughts went black again. It was useless to fight this time.

2D didn't know if he was hallucinating, but he thought he heard Murdoc repeat the words a few times as he drifted off. It was so quiet, and his brain was too numb for him to be sure.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

This whole situation was becoming very confusing.

* * *

A/N: I might put in a small timeskip in the next chapter or so just to keep things moving. Pirate Radio broadcasts and whales, coming right up! :D


	9. Dreams

2D knew he was dreaming this time.

He was staring at the ground as he walked, down what seemed to be a brick road that was tinged a little purple. His eyes were wide and he could see perfectly, which tipped 2D off that it probably wasn't real. A high feeling had set into his brain, and he was perfectly content to see where the dream was going; the other option was probably waking up, and he REALLY didn't like that idea. It was hard to remember exactly what he had fallen asleep to, but he knew it couldn't be that great.

Murdoc's voice was still faint in his ears.

Looking around, he wasn't surprised to find discoloured trees -more purple, with pink leaves and branches- all around him. His dreams were usually very odd, and it was nothing new. He kept walking.

He began counting his steps in his head automatically. This was a little different, though. 2D was usually separate from his dreams, like watching a movie, but this was first-person. Thinking back, he decided to blame the pills, and leave it at that. He might wake up if he focused too much.

2D had walked for 64 and 1/2 steps before pausing. The singer glanced behind him, and his eyes widened. The brick road was turning black, slowly creeping up to where he was. He immediately turned and continued walking, but at a regular pace. He shouted at himself to run, but nothing happened.

His worries eased just slightly when he looked over his shoulder again, seeing that the black was at about the same pace he was, maybe a bit slower.

103 steps alltogether, and the black had caught up. 2D's feet froze in his tracks, but the darkness had just run under him, staining the bricks as it went, ignoring him completely. Relief flooded over him, but it was short-lived.

2D swore he had just heard something.

A jolt of pain ran up his spine, but it faded quickly, and he didn't bother with it, still straining to listen for whatever-it-was. A few seconds passed.

'2D...'

Oh. His name. The voice was too hushed to distinguish, but it sounded familiar.

'You can't even...'

Can't even what? How was 2D supposed to listen if it wouldn't even finish it's sentences? It was oddly irritating, and he finally decided to just keep walking. The road was completely black now, but he couldn't bring himself to worry.

Another phantom flash of pain. The vocalist looked down to where his injuries would have been- nothing. His skin was clear of any scars or marks that 2D had ever remembered having. He moved to put a hand to his collarbone, but his arm wouldn't listen, and his hands ended up in his pockets. 2D noted that he was wearing his skinny jeans- another sign this wasn't real. He specifically remembered not finding his skinnies in the boxes of clothes he found back in the room.

Before Murdoc came in and beat the shit out of him, blinding him along the way, that is. 2D was afraid of the longterm damage, and was estatic to be able to see now, if only in his head. He was a very visual person - it was obvious in his dreams - and it killed him not to see anything. This was better then nothing.

Another quiet sort of whisper, and 2D swore when he recognized it as Murdoc's voice.

'... Fuckin' sorry, luv...'

He creased his brow and looked around. Nothing but discoloured trees, sky, and a now-depressingly black brick road. A light wind rolled through, and the leaves of the trees shook. 2D's eyes were drawn to them, and he watched as a few were knocked loose and flew away.

A sharper pain hit him now, up his spine, and he wondered what it was. His injuries were gone in this dream, and the pills couldn't be wearing off by now, could they? How long had he been asleep so far?  
Eventually, 2D's feet decided to keep walking.

He looked around him as he travelled down the road, looking at the leaves as the wind knocked some loose. A leaf flew in front of him, and he reached out to grab it. It turned black and ashen in his hands, and 2D dropped the sudden remains in horror. His eyes quickly darted around him again.

All of the leaves were changing colours, now red or black, spotting the tops of the purple trees. The entire mood of the dream took a dark turn at this, the darkness making everything a little more menacing. 2D, despite being scared, suddenly felt very nostalgic. He stared at the red and black leaves for a moment. Another one ghosted by- a red one now, and the singer snatched it too.

Again, the leaf turned to ash in his hands, and he let it fall, unshocked this time.

'...Stupid, too, but I...'

Freezing again, he listened carefully.

'... Gotta forgive 'n forget, 'D...'

He knew it was Murdoc's voice. It had to be. What was he doing in 2D's dreams? The singer suddenly felt very warm, almost uncomfortably so. He couldn't get RID of him.

A sharp pain struck him on the top of his head, and he lifted a hand to cover the spot, but his arm didn't listen as usual. As before, the pain faded quickly, leaving 2D to wonder. He guessed they were reminders of the reality- even in dreams, while chock full of pills... he couldn't escape the pain completely. A jolt ran down his back again, and he frowned.

More leaves were strewn about by the wind, bringing along whispers of Murdoc's voice with it. It sounded hushed, hurried, like he was running out of time to say it.

'Ya just don't, ah, understand...'

Understand WHAT?

2D began to run, although he wasn't completely sure why. His legs moved faster, running down the black road until the bright trees blurred through the sides of his vision, fading from his mind as he listened to the crunch of the leaves he stepped on as he went. He could feel his heart beating in his head, and the sound slowly grew to a deafening state, drowning out anything else that 2D was trying to focus on.

He didn't pay attention to how long he ran, he just DID. Murdoc's voice had gone for the moment. There was a creeping feeling of something he needed to get away from, and 2D hoped that this didn't turn into a nightmare. His nightmares were never pleasant; he usually woke up screaming.

There was a light that the singer noticed, glowing brightly over the curve of the road up ahead. A happy feeling hit him, and he felt that this might not be a nightmare after all. 2D sped up, trying to reach the light.

But it always seemed to be the same exact distance away.

2D was running out of breath, and his feet began to protest running so much. He pulled to a stop for a moment, taking a deep breath. Did people breathe in their dreams? He couldn't remember anything so realistic happening in any of his thoughts before. Murdoc's voice rang out again, from nowhere in particular.

'Don't try it, 'D. I've got my eye on you.'

... WHAT?

The singer looked over his shoulder and around nervously, but saw nothing. The statement seemed more like a threat, and scared him more then the other bare whispers of Murdoc he had been hearing.

"Murdoc?"

The first time 2D had spoken throughout the whole dream.

Suddenly, everything in the dream went deathly silent. 2D couldn't hear his heart anymore. He couldn't hear anything.

The blue-haired man lifted a hand to his hair, and the limb listened this time, much to 2D's surprise. Apparently the action triggered something, since the second he did so, all the leaves on the ground crumbled and disappeared. He looked around; the trees were almost... dissolving into the ground, slowly sinking lower until all 2D could see was the blackened road and green skies.

"Hello?"

'Goodbye...' came Murdoc's voice quietly, fading out in response. 2D's eyes widened. The bassist's voice had just ANSWERED him.

He opened his mouth to reply, wanting to ask what was going on, but the words thst left him weren't what he was planning. "Are ya leavin'?" was the only thing he asked, looking at his feet again. His vision took a sharp dive into black for a moment.

'I already did.'

2D looked up.

Everything was black now. The skies and trees and road had vanished, leaving 2D feel like he was floating on something. He couldn't see anything but black, even when he moved his hand in front of his face. He had a feeling that he was about to wake up, and couldn't say he was looking forward to it.

Still undecided was whether this whole thing was considered a dream or a nightmare.

The always-temporary silence was interrupted by a very loud, sudden bang. 2D jumped at it, crying out in surprise. He sat up on instinct, and a terribly sharp pain hit him again. The man tried to open his eyes, but was answered with a sore feeling and still no sight. He sighed. Not a great way to wake up.

His legs felt sore too, like he had been running a very long time. But that couldn't be true, right? He had been in bed. Moving his hand through his hair, it was damp and sweaty. He didn't know why. 2D took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, feeling very confused. He turned his head, making sure that no one else was in the room. "Muds?" he tried, but silence was all that he heard, and was a bit relieved at it. It would be terribly awkward to deal with Murdoc right now.

After a few minutes of sitting, trying to figure out what just happened, 2D gave up and let himself lay back down. The pills were wearing off slowly, just barely, but he could feel the numb already begin to fade.

"Jesus." he muttered darkly, voice a bit hoarse. "Wot the Hell was that?"


	10. More Than It Seems

Murdoc had come back into the room soon after 2D had woken up.

The singer was sitting- as usual- against the headboard of his bed, humming to himself and mulling over whatever it was Murdoc had gotten him into. He turned his head when he heard the wheel of the door creak and spin, and managed a half-hearted grin when he heard familiar footsteps cross into the room.

"H-Hey, Muds."

The other made a sound of acknowledgement and sat on the mattress next to 2D. He could feel the weight dip, and resisted the urge to scoot away a little. "Had a nice nap?' he quipped, his tone teasing. 2D paused. What did Murdoc mean by that?

"Shuddit." the vocalist decided to snap back. "Had a bad dream. Those pills messed me up summfink awful."

He wasn't sure if it could be classified as a bad dream, though. It certainly wasn't good. But it felt more like a drug trip than any sort of dream.

"Maybe yew shouldn't've taken so many."

"Shuddit, Muds."

"Make me, 'D."

The exchange was so automatic that 2D was taken aback for a moment, unsure of what to say. Punching Murdoc seemed like a good idea, except that he couldn't SEE, and his arms still felt heavy and sore. 2D wondered if it would ever fully go away. His stomach made an odd gurgling noise, and Murdoc laughed, the previous conversation quickly forgotten. "Hungry?" he asked, though he knew the answer. 2D pouted and nodded, as the other stood from the bed.

Some faint rustling, a whispered curse from Murdoc, and the mattress dipped again. Murdoc felt closer this time. Almost right next to him.

"I got food fer ya. Open up."

Immediately he felt wary, and tilted his head to the side. "Wot kinda food? Issit poisoned? Am I gunna get sick?" 2D asked quickly. The bassist scoffed at him.

"Don't be so suspicious. Wouldn't do me no good to poison ya, you're already useless enough as it is. 'Sides, I don't think you're in much of a position to be picky, do you?"

2D grimaced. "I-I could feed meself, ya know."

"Not without bein' able to see, you can't. Can you even move yer fingers?" he asked with a laugh. The singer attempted to, and his fingers ached when he did even though it worked. He frowned in the other's direction. "Yeah, thought so. So shut it, m'actually being nice fer once." Murdoc snapped. After that, 2D nodded with a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of the bed shift again. There was a pause. Something was pressed to his lips- he twitched automatically but parted them anyways, biting down and pulling what ever it was away quickly so Murdoc would move his hand. He recognized the taste immediately as part of an orange, and smiled.

He ate the slices he was fed in semi-silence, refusing to say anything of how embarassing he felt it was. Murdoc scoffed every once in awhile when he winced or missed a bit, but that was it. 2D knew the whole thing was awkward, but this was... TENSE, too. He didn't like it.

At the last slice, the tips of the bassist's fingers brushed his lower lip when he pulled back, slowly. 2D swallowed nervously and swayed back from it a little, almost afraid. The touch didn't seem accidental.

There was a pause, but Murdoc drew his hand away and didn't say anything, so the singer let himself relax a bit.

He hated worrying over every little thing the man did.

It was irritating. It made him anxious.

"Are you still hungry, face-ache?" the bassist said after a moment, voice quieter then before. 2D thought about it for a second, and although he knew he should eat something more, he didn't think he had the stomach for it right then. He shook his head, hearing Murdoc make a sound of acknowledgement.

Another hated period of awkward silence passed, longer then the last few ones, and 2D hummed absentmindedly. His head turned at every sound he heard in the corners of the room, reminding him of his loss of sight, and it was starting to drive him insane. He never thought about how much he appreciated being able to see until he couldn't do it anymore. Irony in a sense, really.

He probably needed professional medical attention, anyways.

Flashes of what had happened suddenly came rushing back. What he considered to be his second 'day' stuck under this godforsaken, plastic whatever-it-was that Murdoc had imprisoned him in. The grating of the wheeled lock on the door. The man's insults and ranting. His footsteps across the room. 2D winced as the memory of Murdoc's fist flying towards his face surfaced in his mind.

...And the wrench.

2D couldn't remember a time he had been more scared. It almost made him glad he couldn't see anymore- he could avoid looking at whatever wounds the thing had caused. Murdoc really could have killed him. Did he know that?

Thinking back on all of it seemed to make the lingering pain stronger. He craved to be able to see again. He couldn't even really remember what the room he was in looked like.

"Hey, Muhdoc?" he whispered after a pause, turning his head in what he assumed was the other man's direction. Murdoc didn't laugh or anything, so he guessed he was right.

"Yeah?"

The vocalist bit his lower lip, which made his jaw a bit sore. "Uh... Uhm... I was wonderin' if... if yew would have any idea when my eyes'll heal up. Not seein', it... well, it's sorta driving me crazy..." he trailed off. Murdoc snorted, and it sent a flare of panic in his brain, so he continued quickly. "A-An' hey! M'not saying that I'll do it, really, but if ya WANT me ta sing, how can I if I can't read the lyrics or music?"

Murdoc seemed to pause after that.

Typical.

"That's... a good point, actually." he said slowly. 2D was surprised at this. He felt the other lean in- 2D assumed he was assessing the damage done to his eyes. Murdoc chuckled , making him frown. "The left is worse than the right, but both're pretty swollen. I'd say give the right a few days and ya might be able to open it. Can't say about the left one. I dunno if I'd be able to do much 'sides give you ice and check up on it. It's not swollen enough to bleed out, not worth it."

His heart sank. Not like 2D would want to get his eye cut, anyways.

"We could pull a Rocky and slice yer eyelid, if ya want, too-"

"-Murdoc, you bastard! No!"

The bassist was laughing without abandon now, and the singer winced when the man clapped a hand to his knee over the blanket. "I was joking, face-ache! Your eyes are already fucked enough, don't you think?"

There was a bit of humor to the last part of it, and 2D tried to hold back the small grin that broke through at the truth of it. "... Y-Yeah, I guess so... but, hey! Wait a sec! Everyfink that's happened to my eyes has been yer fault! Especially recently!"

Murdoc laughed again, a little less enthusiastic though, and for some reason- 2D couldn't even comprehend why- HE felt guilty for bringing it up. He couldn't see the other, but Murdoc's silence seemed to tell him he was almost... offended?

Why in God's name was 2D the one who felt guilty for bringing it up? It was true.

He tried to shake the feeling from his head, and was about to say something else, when the weight of the other on the bed shifted. Murdoc stood up.

"M-Muds?"

There was a pause before the man spoke again. "I gotta go, luv. Sorry I can't stick around right now. I got alot of work to get done."

The blue-haired vocalist grimaced. "Oh, really? Wot kinda work do ya gotta do, huh? Ya can't make an album until I start singin'! I bet yer just gonna go off and get drunk and laugh yer ass off at how miserable I finally am."

A furious growl left Murdoc's throat, and 2D froze, afraid he was going to be struck- luckily he was wrong, but the sound of something crashing and breaking was heard against the wall across the room. He guessed Murdoc had grabbed something from the floor or table and threw it. He jumped when whatever it was shattered.

"STOP yer fuckin' WHINING, 2D! I'm SORRY that I had to hurt you, okay? I wouldn't have had to do it if you had just bloody LISTENED! So don't you DARE complain to me when you had EVERYTHING in yer power to stop it!" came the almost shrill response. 2D shrunk back when he felt the other's presence closer, hovering over him from where the singer sat on the bed.

He could've sworn he was going to get hit again, and he tried to curl up to protect himself as best he could in the brief seconds there were, but for some reason, the blow never came. Murdoc seemed to pause, and back away a bit. 2D held his breath for a moment. Hesitantly, slowly, he uncurled himself, lifting his head, trying to sense anything of what Murdoc was going to do.

The satanist sighed.

"Look. I DO have alot of work. I've been trying to get in contact with some other artists that I think would be great to collab with for some songs. I'm bustin' my ass just trying to keep HIDDEN while doing it too, not ta mention I'm plannin' on trying to start telling people that we've got somethin' in the making. And face-ache, I don't really CARE if ya wanna do it or not right now. Yer always like this. You'll give in and change yer mind, and we'll make another smash album like always."

2D cursed under his breath and was about to interrupt him, but Murdoc saw that and kept going.

"- I'm not givin' you a CHOICE. Hell, even I don't have a choice this time. This one's gonna be big, 'D. I know it is. I can feel it. It's not gonna be our usual drugged-up jams."

The other began to walk away (2D could hear the footsteps, and feel the air change). "Wait, Murdoc!" he called after him. "Wot're ya talking about? Different? How'dya mean? Because we don't got Noodle or Russel? Bigger? I dunno wot ye-"

"I have to GO, I said!" Murdoc shouted from across the room. He heard the rusty metal creaking of the large wheel-lock on the door as it was opened. Apparently, the bassist paused before actually leaving. "...Even I don't know everythin' about this album yet, 'D." he said, much softer than before- 2D had to strain to hear. "I'm just doing what I have to. Don't make this harder than it already is."

The door creaked again, 2D heard the lock spin, and jumped when the door slammed shut again. Faintly he heard the inner locks turn again, and Murdoc's footsteps fade away.

He was so confused. His eyes hurt. His head hurt. His MIND hurt. What was Murdoc talking about? Why was this album such a big deal? It seemed Murdoc was just doing whatever he felt like, as always, but with the way the man was talking... it almost scared 2D. Murdoc could be very dark, he knew this, but it was rare for him to act so... serious about something, especially so suddenly.

2D wished he was comfortable with chalking it up to another one of the satanist's mood swings. But something didn't feel right about that.

He sighed, bringing his sore legs back up to his chest, and leaning his head against the wall of the headboard behind him. Until Murdoc came back, he had nothing to do but sit.

This was going to drive him insane, he already knew it.


End file.
